


Clue Me In

by my_kylo_ren_fics



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Guns, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 06:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6600625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_kylo_ren_fics/pseuds/my_kylo_ren_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo committed a horrible crime and, the worst part is that he managed to flee the scene. You’re an FBI agent sent in to figure out what really happened on that terrible day. However, after months of no new leads, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever figure it out. That is, until the case is blown wide open. As things rapidly spiral out of control, you can’t help but wonder if there is more than meets the eye with this case. Could Ben Solo be innocent?</p>
<p>Warnings: Violence - mass shooting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A/N: The setting is in the United States (Kind of important for this fic because I don’t know how it would be outside of the US). It’s pretty heavy but… Eh. (Y/N is your first name, L/N signifies your last name, by the way, in case you didn’t know.) Same thing as always: if you want more, let me know. **WARNING: Mass shooting, violence, and... I don’t know what else.** However, this story will not go the way you think it will. Give it a chance. It'll seem ignorant at first but, it will develop.  
_

**It just didn’t add up.**

You flipped open his file. Ben Solo had been awarded a medal of honor for going above and beyond the call of duty. He had pulled over a car with a defective blinker for a routine traffic stop and the driver had fired at him. He took a direct hit from the gun, just above his hip. Even with the injury, he managed to subdue the assailant.

He had received numerous commendations from all sorts of higher ups after that incident. As you skimmed the file, you couldn’t help but sigh. He didn’t strike you as a killer. 

Then again, no one thought that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold would go into Columbine high school, armed with guns and explosive devices. No one could have predicted they would kill 13 innocent people and then turn their guns on themselves. 

That was only one of the examples that stuck out in your mind. Sadly, you could list off hundreds more. Mass shootings in the United States were growing more and more frequent. There was one underlying connection between all of them. Usually, these shootings had a motivation. There was some reason behind it.

And yet, for Ben Solo, you had found nothing. There was no logical explanation for the massacre… as of yet. Why would a good cop like Ben Solo go and kill almost every officer in the small city of Temple?

You stared at the photo of the then twenty-nine-year-old former cop. In the background of the photo, there was an American flag, hanging limply off to the side. It only caught your eye for a few moments before you shifted to the man in the foreground. He looked genuinely happy in the photo like all officers did when they graduated from the Police Academy. He was dressed in a traditional steel blue shirt. His badge was affixed over his heart and, on the opposite side, was his name tag that read “Solo”. A big toothy smile spread across his cleanly shaven face. His brown eyes gleamed like a brand new penny. He was so young.

_Why would he do it? How did he escape?_

That was your job to figure out. After all, you were Special Agent Y/N L/N of the FBI. It wasn’t like you were fresh out of Quantico and on your first case. It wasn’t your first rodeo, that’s for damn sure. You, supposedly, knew what you were doing.

Rather surprisingly, though, for the first time in years, you were stumped. How could he have escaped from the police station, unseen? There were cameras in almost every room. 

You had been brought to the same conclusion for the hundredth time. It just didn’t add up.

“Special Agent?” 

You looked up from the file to see Chief Dameron, standing outside of your door. In his hands, you noticed two styrofoam cups.

His head of fluffy black hair caught your attention. As per usual, it flopped back and forth on his head, almost as if it were hesitant to stay on one side. His brown eyes were partially hidden by the large bags they carried underneath. He appeared as if he hadn’t slept in days - that was nothing new, though.

“Smells like coffee,” you noticed.

He smiled as he walked in and handed you one of them, “I figured you might need some. How’s it going?” His eyes dropped to the file on your desk.

You closed Ben’s file. He was a touchy subject around the remaining officers in Temple. They had only survived because they had the day off. It was Friday, December 18, 2015. The day that will forever remain as the single bloodiest day in the entire history of Temple.

In the reports you had read from that day, you recalled that Poe had only been an officer then. The deaths of everyone in the department led to his sudden and unexpected promotion. That was a real shitty way to get ahead in your career. There was nothing he could do about it, though.

You took a large swig from the warm cup of black coffee. After you swallowed, you rubbed your tongue across the roof of your mouth. Sludge - that’s what it was. It was definitely the terrible coffee from the break room. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was the thought that counted.

You finally responded to his question.

“It’s… going.”

“You know,” he said as he took a seat in one of your chairs, “since you rolled into Temple a few months ago, I’ve never really seen you take a break.” He placed his cup of coffee on your desk.

It was true. You really hadn’t taken a break since you were assigned the case. You needed to find justice for the men and women who had been killed. You needed to find Ben Solo. You drained your cup of coffee.

“Why should I take a break if crime doesn’t?” 

You glanced down into the empty cup and threw it into the trash can. Was that number six or seven for the day?

He scoffed, pulling your attention back to his face, “Alright, little miss hot shot FBI agent. That’s it. You are going to get a drink with me tonight. I don’t mean that you’ll just ditch out after ten minutes, head back to your hotel, and drink all the liquor in your mini fridge.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, “That was one time.”

The incredulous look on his face was enough to let you know that he wasn’t buying what you were trying to sell to him.

“It was a few more times than that but, really, who is keeping count?”

He rose from the chair, “I’ll let you get back to work. We’re meeting at 7:30 at Takodana. Be there.”

“Fine.”

With that, the captain turned on his heel and walked out of your office. You noticed he had left the second cup of black sludge on your desk. 

Did he know you’d be needing it in order to survive the next two hours? You picked up the cup and sipped it. Either way, you weren’t about to chase him down over a shitty cup of coffee. He could easily make another one in the break room.

You had been distracted for too long. These victims needed justice sooner rather than later. You flipped the file open again. 

“Why did you do it?” you asked the photo.

Of course, the man in the picture couldn’t reply. He was simply an image of the past. He held no answers to any of your questions.


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours later, your elbows rested on the bar. You had a drink within your reach. For a moment, everything felt right in the world. As you lifted the glass and took a sip from your beer, you just couldn’t be bothered to really think about anything else.

You looked out the window of the dingy bar. Across the street, you could see a man, standing underneath a flickering street light. Initially, he looked like nothing except a tall blob against the darkness of the alley. 

However, when the light finally flickered back on, you nearly dropped your glass.

It was Ben Solo.

Or, at least, the man looked like Ben Solo. His hair was a lot longer than it was in any of your photos, just barely scraping his shoulders. He also had the beginning of a beard and mustache peppering his face.

You put your drink down on the bar.

“I’ll be back,” you said towards Poe. You didn’t check to ensure he heard you, like you usually did. You hurriedly stood and slipped out of busy bar and into the crisp night air. 

Your eyes wandered back to the spot where the man had been standing. You could just barely see him walking down the alley. You had to follow him.

It wasn’t an option.

Your hand went to your gun at your hip and you removed your gun from its holster as you walked towards the man. You weren’t really completely certain he was Ben Solo; however, you couldn’t be to careful. Just as you were about to announce yourself, he turned around.

“Stop following me,” he hissed as he glanced back and forth.

“FBI,” you flashed your badge at him. “Ben Solo, you’re under arrest for murder.”

Your hands went to your side and you let out a groan. You had left your handcuffs on the counter in your hotel room. _Great._ They were useful there.

His eyes widened and you noticed his nostril flare as he looked over your face. He must have been surprised and angered that you had recognized him so easily. Then again, he wasn’t doing such a great job of hiding…

“I don’t care. You need to leave before you get us both killed,” he said in an agitated tone.

“Did you not understand what I just said?” 

“You heard me,” he said. You could hear the sounds of footsteps coming closer; however, in the dim lighting of the alley, it was impossible to see who it was or where they were.

“It’s too late.”

All of a sudden, a bright flash of orange hair appeared in your vision.

Ben quickly disarmed you and shoved your gun into the back of his waistband before turning around to face the man coming towards the two of you.

He flopped his arm around your shoulder and pressed his lips to your ear.

“Don’t say a word, or else we’ll both be dead.”

You could feel the heat pour from his lips as he pressed them to your ear. You closed your eyes. He nipped it with his teeth before he pulled away.

“Kylo Ren,” the orange haired man said, “I assumed our meeting would be private.” He ran his eyes over your body. 

You couldn’t help but feel… as if you were being looked over like you were a slab of steak at a super market. You shifted on your feet. _Gross._

“She’s not much of a talker,” Ben replied, “Not unless we’re in the bedroom.”

You felt Ben’s hand slip from your shoulders and trailed down your body. He left a wake of warmth down your spine. You thought he would have stopped when his hand rested on your lower back, but it trailed lower. His hand then tenderly squeezed your butt. You jumped, in surprise, and then smirked at him. You had to play your part.

And, apparently, you did it well.

“Very well,” the orange haired man responded. 

A thick envelope was passed between the orange haired man and Ben. You were hoping that he would at least open the damn thing in front of you. What was inside of it? You wouldn’t find out just yet. 

Ben just held it to his side.

“Is this all?”

The man nodded, “He will contact you.” And, the man quickly turned and walked into the darkness of the night. 

However, Ben didn’t remove his arm from around you. His hand softly rubbed small circles on your lower back.

“What the hell?” you said.

You did the only thing you could think of doing. You elbowed him – hard – in his side. _That butt grab was not even necessary._

He groaned and bent over, attempting to catch his breath. And, while he was bent over, you easily pulled your gun from his waistband. Swiftly, you managed to get it pointed it at the back of his head. 

The safety clicked off.

“You’re coming with me,” you grunted out.

“Not a chance.”

He grinned.

“You’re going to have to catch me first,” he said before he swiftly moved. You were knocked to the ground.


End file.
